


Independent Studies in Academic Finances and Modern Movement

by Yellow_Bird_On_Richland



Series: used to be a gazelle (now she runs with the lions) [3]
Category: Community (TV)
Genre: (they're morons and I love them), Background Trobed, Does Annie develop a non-sexual voyeurism kink after years of TV consumption with Abed?, F/F, I will not take questions on this theory, M/M, Maybe - Freeform, Platonic Trobedison, Whoops turned into an S6 AU, background Jeff/Britta, lesbian Annie Edison
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:01:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27741181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yellow_Bird_On_Richland/pseuds/Yellow_Bird_On_Richland
Summary: Annie’s taken enough anatomy courses to know this little theory she’s harboring is dead wrong, but she entertains it anyway, as a Troy-ish idea. He and Abed have taught her that exploring incorrect or inaccurate thoughts can be a lot of fun. So she plays a round of what-if and treats the concept of magnetism as a true, physical, scientific phenomenon for people. Acts like it’s more than a metaphorical attraction, more than another term for chemistry.That would definitely explain why she stares, transfixed, at a certain redhead whenever her lithe body is in motion.
Relationships: Annie Edison/Original Female Character(s), Troy Barnes/Abed Nadir
Series: used to be a gazelle (now she runs with the lions) [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2013109
Comments: 2
Kudos: 31





	Independent Studies in Academic Finances and Modern Movement

**Author's Note:**

> Continuation/companion fic to “Real-World Applications of Competitive Flirting.” I’d recommend reading that and the whole series before diving into this. Continuity errors (aka the jump from S5 in the last story to S6 in this one) are entirely my own.

Annie remembers to set her LinkedIn privacy settings to incognito so Kaitlyn can't see her visiting her profile repeatedly before their date.

She's just doing her due diligence, making sure she's not about to ask Frankie if she can invite some con artist into Greendale. Or her life.

(Not that she needs Frankie's approval of a potential romantic match, but it would hardly hurt to have it.)

She presents Kaitlyn's credentials to their official, school-sanctioned leader, and remarks, with a slight tremor in her voice, "Frankie? Would it be alright if I invited a...potential colleague to give a presentation on her grant development services? As part of our focus on sustainable fundraising?"

Frankie looks over the printout Annie's compiled. "Sure, Annie. Gimme a day or so to look into what you've got here, and to review, uh," she checks the header on the resume, "Kaitlyn's experience, but we could certainly at least listen to a pitch some time."

"Alright. I'll contact her about scheduling," Annie answers, willing herself to not blush at her lie of omission.

She _will_ reach out to Kaitlyn about when she can stop by one of their meetings, after all. Over their dinner date in a couple of days.

She scrutinizes her closet carefully that afternoon, hoping to piece together an outfit that says, "I'm fun, but you should also take me kind of seriously." Something that conveys significant interest without bordering on sad, lonely desperation.

She settles on a dark teal turtleneck and a high-waisted black pencil skirt, plus gray leggings. It feels like a more refined version of her day to day look, like she actually _is_ a grown-up and not just playing the role of one. Not to mention, the top kinda makes her boobs look even more fabulous than usual, and she's not above flaunting her assets like that. In her somewhat limited experience of flirting with women, they tend to look respectfully, rather than leer, anyway, so she can be a bit bolder with her choices.

She arrives at The Grange a few minutes early, of course. _"After a few too many dates with boys at dive bars and Applebee's over the years, it's nice to have a woman select a place with an air of sophistication,"_ Annie thinks happily as she takes in the ambience. Lighting that's cozy without being dim, booths that appear comfortable without being downright chintzy—yeah, this place'll do nicely.

And Kaitlyn, who waves her down by the bar? That gorgeous redhead with lipstick to match, wearing a black long sleeve top and a leopard print wrap skirt that's clinging to her curves with criminal ease?

She'll do very, _very_ nicely.

"Delighted to see you again, Annie. And you're an absolute vision," Kaitlyn greets her suavely with a slight inclination of her head and a firm, yet tender, handshake.

"Consider me equally enchanted, Kaitlyn." She _really_ needs to thank Abed for the tips on opening phrases for dates. "To business first, then?" she asks once they've put in their food orders and gotten their drinks.

"Sure. I printed out my resume and a list of my potential services," Kaitlyn notes, passing over a manila folder before she remarks, with a smirk, "Though I'm guessing you already studied my LinkedIn to certify my credentials."

Annie feels her eyes pop wide. It's new, the way Kaitlyn can throw her off kilter a bit without actually rendering her uncomfortable, but she likes it, so she banters back, "I'd be remiss if I didn't conduct a thorough review. All part of my due diligence. I'm sure you understand."

"Absolutely. And you can look as closely as you want. I don't mind," Kaitlyn reassures her with a drawl that settles into her bloodstream faster than the alcohol from her session IPA.

Annie doesn't have a response to that bit of effortless flirting, so she instead pulls out her list of priority projects to discuss them further. She'd sent them to Kaitlyn earlier in the week, naturally, since being the least bit under-prepared is _so_ not her style.

"Do you want the good news or the bad news first?" Kaitlyn asks after she glances over the list again.

"It's Greendale. Bad news first. Always," Annie answers after she sips her water.

"Good to know for future reference," Kaitlyn nods appreciatively. "So, the bad news: Capital projects are a bitch to fund from any source. Federal, state, local—unless you can get someone who wants to slap their name on something, good luck," she explains. "And given Greendale's reputation…" she grimaces.

Annie frowns. "So gym renovations are probably a no-go?"

"Yeeeah." Kaitlyn stretches the word out til it breaks, then perks up a bit. "But, good news, your other projects—STEM lab development, increasing partnerships with local high schools to enhance college and workforce readiness, expanding professional development offerings, creating more inclusive and equitable classroom spaces," she lists off, "are all fairly fundable."

They spend another twenty-five or so minutes hashing out some other details—Kaitlyn offering some insight into her specific areas of expertise, Annie laying out successes and challenges they've encountered in pursuing grants on their own—before Annie feels comfortable enough to ask, "Would you at least be willing to consider helping us, then?"

"Yeah," Kaitlyn nods. "We can schedule an initial meeting with your committee for me to discuss things further and go from there. Maybe sometime in the next week or two?"

Annie beams, resists her old urge to squeal when she's excited, and instead answers with a measured, "That sounds like a good plan moving forward."

"Absolutely," Kaitlyn agrees and, in one swift move, clinks her glass with Annie's before she confesses, "I'm glad we worked that out so easily, since I've _really_ been looking forward to the second part of this date."

"The feeling's mutual," Annie concedes, trying and failing to will her cheeks from flushing red.

"Well, then, to start...what's a book you read recently that captivated you?" Kaitlyn asks, her eyes flashing as their waiter comes over with her spiced lamb shoulder entree.

Annie makes a pleased hum at the brightness of her lemon herb salmon burger and chomps on a fry before the answer comes to her. " _The Night Circus,_ by Erin Morgenstern, stayed with me for at least a couple weeks after I finished it."

Kaitlyn cocks her head to the side and swipes a fry from Annie's plate. "Tell me about it."

Her nonchalant delivery of the directive sends a shiver down Annie's spine, and she automatically obeys.

" _What is it about Kaitlyn that's got you feeling...like this?"_ some tiny part of her brain wonders as she starts setting the narrative's scene. She can't exactly define what "this" is, but she knows she wants more of it. _"Her confidence? Her voice? The way she focuses her entire body in my direction to listen to me?"_

" _It's probably all of the above, genius. And you haven't even touched on her beauty,"_ another part of her subconscious whispers as she begins to flesh out her answer, telling Kaitlyn, "There's this endless push and pull of real dualities in the fictional world of the circus: between freedom and fate, competition and collaboration, performative love and genuine love, beauty and tragedy."

Kaitlyn's leaning in even as she takes a bite of her food, her eyes not straying at all, so Annie continues, "The story is compelling, with impossibly high stakes, but the author never makes it feel so grandiose that it becomes cheapened. It's probably my favorite recent foray into magical realism, for how it creates this fantastic environment that doesn't feel too far removed from our own," she concludes.

Kaitlyn stares at her thoughtfully. "You said the story's compelling?"

"Mmhmm," Annie nods as she chews.

"Funny," Kaitlyn hums, her gaze turning razor sharp in an instant as she murmurs, "I could say the same for its reviewer."

As her heart rate spikes and her stomach plummets through the restaurant's floor, Annie dimly registers, _"You wanted more of how Kaitlyn makes you feel_. _You got it."_

She graciously tilts her glass toward Kaitlyn. "And you deserve credit for a fascinating question. Now…" she decides to go with one of her classics. "If you were in a zombie movie, where would you go first, and what kind of weaponry would you take?"

"Can I get some clarification?"

"Of course."

"Alright, so, first: is this a serious zombie situation, in the vein of The Walking Dead, or more of a comedic one?" she asks. "And second, am I at the start of the movie, like, before everyone knows there's an outbreak, or has shit already hit the fan?"

Annie tries not to smile too brightly at her date's investment in the question, but _so_ many dudes got weird about it in the past. "It's serious, definitely. Gotta keep the drama up. And you're close to the beginning of the film. There's low-level stuff going wrong in other areas, but your neck of the woods, wherever that is, hasn't really suffered at all yet."

"Alright. That helps, thanks," Kaitlyn grins. "So, first move, get gas and hit up a Whole Foods or a fancy co-op grocery store, since they're less likely to get raided compared to big-name stores like Aldi or Walmart, and money's gonna be a devalued currency soon enough anyway, so who cares if it costs more to get an artisan bag of mixed nuts and dried fruit?"

"Smart, smart," Annie comments, impressed with her reasoning, and she goes on, "In terms of weapons...gimme a hunting knife and a silenced pistol. Gotta be discreet when putting down zombies."

"That you do," Annie agrees before she declares, with no small flirtatious tone of her own, "I'd like to think we'd make a hell of a team no matter what we had to face. Zombie apocalypse or no zombie apocalypse."

Kaitlyn doesn't answer that immediately, since she's mid-bite, but Annie catches the blush on her face and the sparkle in her eyes, and the comfortable silence speaks to her sentiment.

She doesn't know precisely what they are yet, but she recognizes that, on some elemental level, they're working.

**

And then, roughly a week and a half later, she's introducing the rest of the committee to the possibility of working with Kaitlyn, too.

"And please be on your...medium-est behavior, everyone," she concludes. She figures it's about the best she can hope for as her phone buzzes with a text from Kaitlyn: _Be there in a couple minutes!_

Annie tries to focus on her meeting notes so she doesn't immediately betray her affection, but at this point, they're all sort of conditioned to look up whenever a new person comes in the study room (or Craig, if he's decked out in an extravagant outfit), and she can't resist five-plus years of Pavlovian training.

Kaitlyn's effortlessly captured her attention ever since the night they met, and that phenomenon holds across all settings, apparently.

" _It's not my fault she's got a stellar business casual wardrobe and an even better figure,"_ Annie rationalizes.

She rarely falls into the category of "useless gay," but between appreciating the color contrast between Kaitlyn's cream blouse and her navy blazer, and noticing how her matching slim-fit trousers and sensible heels elongate her legs and further accentuate their height difference, Annie nearly forgets to turn on the laser pointer for her PowerPoint presentation.

"Thank you, Annie." Kaitlyn's tone is totally professional, but not entirely devoid of warmth, and they catch each other's fingers for a flash of a second as Annie passes her the device.

She's taken enough anatomy courses to know this little theory she's harboring is dead wrong, but she entertains it anyway, as a Troy-ish idea. He and Abed have taught her that exploring incorrect or inaccurate thoughts can be a lot of fun. So she plays a round of what-if and treats the concept of magnetism as a true, physical, scientific phenomenon for people. Acts like it's more than a metaphorical attraction, more than another term for chemistry.

That would definitely explain why she stares, transfixed, at a certain redhead whenever her lithe body is in motion.

Plus, she's kind of a sucker for a well-assembled presentation. And between Kaitlyn's in-depth SWOT analysis for Greendale and her clear articulation of how she could assist their committee in meeting their identified goals, it's clear that, mentally, the two of them possess great collaborative potential.

Kaitlyn wraps up her pitch with a hopeful conclusion that, in Annie's admittedly biased opinion, speaks well to how they're trying to move the school forward. "Having lived here since I was about sixteen, I've always heard, and seen, that Greendale is this place overrun by utter insanity," Kaitlyn explains. "But, from what you've all told me—" she pauses for a second and frowns. "Are the paintball games still a thing?"

They all nod solemnly, though Frankie adds, "I don't condone those, for the record."

Kaitlyn shakes her head as if to say, _"Of course,"_ then continues, "Be that as it may, it seems like there's a shift to more of a controlled chaos. And in that shift, you're all doing a lot of good. I'd be proud to help keep it on track so both current and future generations of Greendale students can benefit from your work." She shoots a small smile at everyone, looking around the room, but her gaze lingers on Annie for a second longer before she asks, "Are there any questions or comments for me?"

Frankie, naturally, takes the lead on those, to ask about potential training for staff who'd be interested in writing classroom-level grants, as well as to clarify how part-time contracting would work, and then Kaitlyn's going around the room, offering handshakes to everyone before she leaves.

"Thank you for agreeing to meet with us," Annie tells her, all business.

"Thanks for extending the opportunity to meet with you," she replies, and Annie tries not to grin at how Kaitlyn subtly singles her out from the group.

"So, reactions to Kaitlyn's presentation?" Frankie asks the group once she's left. "Personally, I came away impressed."

Britta, Abed, and Troy give each other knowing smirks at that comment, and Britta drawls, "I think _Annie_ found her particularly engaging, as well."

Frankie perks up at that and glances between the two women, then fixes her gaze on Annie. "Oh? Would you say that's true?"

Her cheeks flush crimson, and she's unable to formulate a response before Abed cuts in to explain, "Annie wooed Kaitlyn away from Jeff when we were at L Street a few weekends ago." He nods at their other leader. "Hence why he's a bit moody."

Troy adds, unhelpfully, "It basically turned into a first date."

Annie glares at both of them and grumbles, "So much for roommate solidarity," before quickly pleading her case to her superior. "Frankie, I swear, everything is totally above board. We just got to talking that night and I found out she worked in grant development. This isn't collusion or anything, just a coincidence. Plus, I mean, Kaitlyn's credentials, experience, and professional presence speak for themselves, don't they?"

The older woman's immune to her doe eyes, so she doesn't bother with them. Frankie sighs. "First of all, you should have told me about your connection. But…" she shrugs. "I'm not gonna lie and say it's worth turning down someone with her qualifications, especially given her prices. Unless anyone has any objections?"

Everyone offers a spoken or gestured "No," and Jeff goes so far as to say, "It takes a lot for a woman who spurned me once to win me over a second time, but Kaitlyn seems to be pretty on top of her shit. I say bring 'er aboard." He looks down the table at Frankie. "We still got some slush fund money from Craig's school dance budget line?"

"Yes, though that's starting to run thin. And, truth be told, handling grants on top of my other duties can be a bit onerous," Frankie admits. "So…" she shoots Annie a small smile before addressing everyone. "I'll talk to Craig about approving a six month contract. Nothing's official yet, of course, but I think we'll be moving forward with Kaitlyn as a member of our team on a part-time basis."

"We'll have to watch episodes of various TV shows that examine the 'mixing business with pleasure' trope, like _Scrubs_ or _Grey's Anatomy,"_ Abed comments enthusiastically to Troy and Annie as they're driving back to the apartment, and she can't even pretend to be annoyed that his pet project comes to replace some of their standard viewings of _Cougar Town._

**

Frankie's vision comes to pass, and Kaitlyn texts Annie early next week. _I'm excited to be working with everyone at Greendale! Especially you. And I might have an idea for our next date. Call me when you're free and we can talk it over._

Her forensics homework can wait a few minutes.

"Congratulations!" Annie cheers once Kaitlyn picks up. "I mean, I knew Frankie and Dean Pelton would agree that working with you made sense, but it's nice to get confirmation."

"Thanks, Annie. Your group has made great progress so far, and I'm looking forward to seeing how I can pitch in. And I'm thinking to celebrate, um...would you wanna go rock climbing with me this weekend?" she asks hopefully.

"Rock climbing?" Annie repeats, her anxiety edging its way into her voice all too easily. Her body's not really made for that intense of a workout.

"Yeah, I was gonna go this weekend because I haven't in a while. To an indoor gym. And I figured, why not invite you?" Her voice has flattened out a bit at Annie's trepidatious response, though, and she adds, "We could do something else if you want, though."

Annie's on the verge of agreeing when she remembers the promise she'd made to herself upon returning to Greendale, to willingly exit her comfort zone more often.

" _Plus,"_ another part of her remarks, _"you know rock climbing's a pretty important activity for her."_

The quiet intimacy of Kaitlyn's suggested date, of her offer to share this piece of herself, helps Annie work up the bravery to answer, "No, I'm up for climbing. Did you have a particular day in mind?"

"I'm thinking Saturday, early afternoon?"

Annie quickly consults her calendar, though, honestly, she'd be pretty amenable to moving things around for Kaitlyn. "I can do that."

"Awesome! The place I usually go is called Denver's Central Rock Gym. It's about a fifteen minute drive away from Greendale, I'd guess. I'll text you the details and we can figure out a time later."

"Sounds good," Annie agrees. "See you on Saturday, then, Kaitlyn."

"Can't wait! Bye, Annie."

"Bye."

She hangs up and immediately Googles "rock climbing for beginners."

" _If I'm leaving my comfort zone, I'm at least conducting some research on the way out."_

**

"Like the instructors said, you wanna climb with your legs. Hanging onto grips is guaranteed to leave your upper body and back sore as anything," Kaitlyn explains once they've adjusted their harnesses to fit comfortably.

"Ok, yeah," Annie nods. Climb with her legs. The same ones that beg for a break after the first twenty minutes of a slow-tempo spin class. Sure.

Kaitlyn seems to sense her apprehension and steps a tiny bit closer to her. "I also think it helps to plan your climb out. The path of where you wanna go."

Annie blows out a breath. Planning. Now she's speaking her language. "Do you have any recommendations of how to start that process?"

"I'd suggest checking where you want your feet to go first…" she frowns a bit, then brightens. "Actually, I've got another idea. Wanna map where I climb? I'll take it slow and you can watch."

 _"It's like hanging out with Abed,"_ Annie rationalizes.

She'll just be watching Kaitlyn, rather than a television show or a film. And she can totally, _totally_ do that. "Sure," she agrees. "I think that would help."

"Alright." Kaitlyn grins at her, then zones out for a second as she considers the wall in front of her, rolls her shoulders, cracks her neck. She doesn't step forward to it so much as she glides before she makes her way up the first couple of low level grips and footholds easily.

She pauses, cranes her neck back toward Annie and calls apologetically, "Sorry, I'll go slower now."

"Oh-okay," Annie calls back after a beat, hoping Kaitlyn will chalk the tremor in her voice up to nerves, rather than a sudden vice grip of attraction, an unexpected blitz of desire.

Because watching her move? Especially in a setting where she was _invited_ to watch?

It's mesmerizing.

She notices the twitches in Kaitlyn's calves and hamstrings (even though they're veiled by her black and pink striped athletic leggings) as she climbs. Bears witness to the explosiveness of her steps as she works her way up the wall, to how the movement in her legs displays a sharp, fluid grace. Tracks the way her upper back and her shoulder blades flex as she pulls herself up to new heights with precise, exacting efforts. Catalogues the subtle turns of the back of her head as she pauses, assesses, and calculates where she wants to go, and how to get there, before she continues her ascent.

Kaitlyn glances back at Annie after she scales the final couple of feet, gives a whoop of excitement, and enthusiastically rings the bell at the wall's apex before she rappels down.

"So," Kaitlyn asks once she's settled on the ground, "did seeing a climb help you with your planning process? Are you able to visualize it better?"

She nods in return, thinking, _"If by 'it,' you mean your body, then yes. I can absolutely visualize it better now."_

"Okay." She shoots her a grin. "Ready to give this a shot?"

"Yeah," Annie affirms, with a touch more confidence than she feels, as she and Kaitlyn approach adjacent sections of the wall together.

"Hey," Kaitlyn murmurs, gently grabbing her hand, and she's transported back to L Street, to when she used that same small gesture to calm her when she was about to dash off out of embarrassment. "You got this, Annie. But if you wanna stop or come down for any reason, just let me know, yeah?"

Annie offers her a small smile and squeezes her hand lightly. "Yeah. Thank you, Kaitlyn."

Her first couple of steps up are easy. There are tons of footholds and grips near the bottom, but after she's climbed maybe a sixth of the wall—she doesn't want to actually look all the way up to gauge her progress or she'll freak out—they start to vanish, and her movements have to grow larger, require more coordination.

"You're doing well so far," Kaitlyn calls from her right, a tiny bit above her. "Nice job not getting stuck."

Annie sucks in a deep breath. "I kinda am now. Not sure where to go next."

Kaitlyn, easy as anything, lets go of one grip with her left hand and artfully leans away from the wall to study Annie's position. "Step laterally to your left a bit and then up."

Annie motions at the identified rock cluster. "There?"

"Yep," she answers. "You still good, hon?"

Physically, she's holding up pretty well. Her body's not calibrated to this choreography, not by a long shot, but she's not totally dead yet.

Mentally, though?

_"Well, Kaitlyn is casually clinging to a rock wall, with her body angled and curved in a way that's making me wonder how she moves in bed, and she just used a term of endearment for me. So...yeah. There's all that to handle."_

After a beat of compartmentalizing, Annie answers, only semi-hesitantly, "I'm fine. I'm doing alright, thanks."

She climbs slowly, steadily, appreciating how Kaitlyn matches her pace but also challenges her, granting her the space to test these new, previously unknown physical and mental limits without leaving her entirely to her own devices.

About two thirds of the way up, she hits the metaphorical wall with a solid _"thud"_ that offers a stark contrast to the jello-y consistency of her legs, and she wonders how the fire in her upper arms and triceps can possibly feel like such a solid weight.

While Annie didn't have a specific goal in mind when she started her climb, scaling well over half of it strikes her as a success, one that can be celebrated on solid ground. Especially when Kaitlyn, who seems preternaturally attuned to her body, catches her gaze during one of her stops and calls, "You wanna head back down now?"

The question lands differently than Annie had expected it would.

She knows Kaitlyn's only making the suggestion out of kindness. Logically, she's aware of that fact, that there's no hidden, subliminal taunt in her tone. That her question is one of genuine concern.

But something inside her—remnants of her inner perfectionist, of that werewolf she'd tapped into to scare the shit out of everyone during their junior year Halloween party—twitches and wants to claw its way out.

So she shakes her head and offers a sharp negation. "No," then, firmer, with a forceful vehemence that seems superglued to her chest, "No. I can make it up one more level."

Her body has more to give. She knows it. And she'll find that reserve, that switch, even if she has to fucking wrench it out of herself with bloodied nails.

Annie appreciates, on a level she can't even express, how Kaitlyn's mood shimmers and shifts to accommodate her response. How she regards her as a fellow predator, with a steely glint in her eye and a hint of fangs in her smile, how she growls her exhortations in a way that's both encouraging and demanding all at once. "Ok, then. You say you got one more climb in you? Let's find it, Annie. You and me. Come on!"

Kaitlyn's brash pronunciation of "on" comes out more like "own," sounds like a howl torn from the back of her throat. And Annie's powerless to do anything but follow her summons, to give chase to this woman and her inner animal, both of whom feel more and more like her kindred spirits with each passing day.

Her arms scream in protest as she lifts herself up and she doesn't just swallow the pain, she bites it in half, devours it, invites more in as she kicks off hard from the footholds she's standing on. And she's done it.

She's on the same level as Kaitlyn.

She bares her teeth in a hungry grin. "Hey, you."

It'd be hotter if she could deliver the line without huffing and puffing, but whatever. Kaitlyn's sizing her up like she just aced a test, smiling softly at her as they rappel back to the ground.

Despite the sweat pouring off her, despite the stringy wisps of hair sticking to the sides of her overheated face, Annie's rarely felt more comfortable in her own skin.

**

"What types of music would you include for your GTA radio stations?" Troy asks during one of their apartment-mandated five minute nonsense breaks from work, then adds, "Go with your top five genres."

Kaitlyn frowns. "GTA?"

"Grand Theft Auto," Troy, Abed, and Annie all chorus together, a tad suspiciously.

"Ohhh, gotcha. I've never actually played before," she confesses, drawing gasps from everyone, even Annie. "I've never really been into video games."

"Okay, we're gonna need to correct that before you leave," Abed asserts, with enthusiastic, supportive nods from his roommates.

Annie still kind of can't believe Kaitlyn's here. That she _willingly_ came here to get some other sets of eyes on the grant she's working on. After all, another twenty-five year old working professional with her life more or less together might listen to her friend's roommates talk about playing Inspector Dreamatorium, leave, and delete said friend's number out of her phone. Kaitlyn actually listens, though, even if she's clearly struggling to follow some of the quantum time leaps that Troy and Abed mention as they hash out the show's plot.

They manage to drag themselves back on task for another hour or so, but when their Pomodoro timer dings, Kaitlyn declares, "I think we've made enough progress for the day. All of your insights really helped, guys. So, um…" she grins at each of them. "Who wants to introduce me to Grand Theft Auto?"

"We all can," Troy answers. "Or you can figure out whose play style best meshes with yours, once you have the basic controls down."

"Troy and I tend to go for more chaos—throwing Molotov cocktails, launching cars off jumps, blasting rocket launchers from helicopters, et cetera," Abed explains. "Annie generally plays with more precision, taking out people with sniper rifles and aiming for headshots. But she'll sometimes go wild, too."

She smirks at Annie. "I kinda wanna see you lose control and just go out on a rampage. Think you could do that?"

" _I could do nearly anything for you, if you always ask with that teasing lilt,"_ she thinks, then answers, "Yeah," before glancing at her boys in turn. "You guys wanna show her the ropes, first? You're better at technical gameplay than me."

"Sure."

Kaitlyn's a decent shot, but a pretty horrendous in-game driver, even with the fancy cheat code cars that Abed and Troy conjure up for her. And her reactions to some parts of the game that Annie had long ago accepted as normal are hilarious.

"So I press the Y button to hijack…" Kaitlyn mutters, biting her lower lip as she runs up to a vehicle's driver side door. "Okay, and…" she gasps. "Oh my God, my character's beating up that elderly lady to steal her car!"

"It's called Grand Theft Auto, Kaitlyn, what did you think would happen?" Troy asks back, equally incredulous, drawing a bout of laughter from everyone.

"And now she's clinging to the car door," Kaitlyn cringes.

"Ooh, gun it and you'll get to see the ragdoll physics," Abed cheers eagerly. She presses on the right trigger, and the lady loses her grip, then tumbles and rolls along the street until…

"And she's run over by a school bus!" Annie comments. "Not bad for your first bit of vehicular manslaughter."

Kaitlyn glances askance at each of them in turn, shakes her head, and mutters, "You think you know a group of people…"

They all laugh again, and in the moment, Abed gives Annie a wink. Troy follows his lead, offering a quick, almost imperceptible nod of approval, and her feeling, her conviction that this—whatever this thing is that she and Kaitlyn have—could go somewhere only grows even stronger.

**

This should be more awkward. Awkward enough to make Annie reconsider going through with it. Except, well, they've all endured a lot of zany shit together, and she doesn't think Abed or Troy have as much experience in the question that's been pinballing around her brain ever since Kaitlyn came over to the apartment a few days ago. Or, more specifically, ever since she left, and Annie failed to offer a goodbye kiss in a scene she's mentally replayed more times than can possibly be healthy.

So, after rehearsing what she wants to say, she calls Jeff.

He sounds as surprised as she feels when he answers, and she can't blame him—they pretty much always communicate via text. "Annie? What's up?"

She asks before she loses her nerve. "How do you kiss a woman that you're dating?"

"I'm sorry, _what?"_

Annie stumbles on, "It's just, I haven't actually dated anyone since Vaughn, and that was more like 'dating'," and the way Jeff laughs tells her he registered the air quotes and her eye roll, "and I haven't kissed a woman before, either. And every time I wanna try with Kaitlyn, my brain flatlines. So. Yeah. Consider this my comeuppance for stealing her away from you, if you like."

"First of all, that's water under the bridge. Or whiskey. Whatever, it doesn't matter," Jeff reassures her. "Second of all, the more pressing matter here is: how many dates have you two gone on?"

"Two. And a half, if you count the night we met."

"Okay...you're good, still well within the standard first kiss timeframe, but you should probably make your move on your next date," Jeff advises. "And on a scale of disarranged stuffed animals to missing slash losing slash whatever the fuck happened to your purple pen that one time, how much is this stressing you out right now?"

"Probably a six, maybe creeping toward a seven. I…" she hesitates for a second, then decides, _"Screw it, they can probably guess my strong attraction by now, anyway."_

"I like Kaitlyn. Obviously. But. I mean...I _really_ fucking like her, Jeff."

"Well, good news: Kaitlyn likes you a lot, too, Annie."

A giant grin cracks across her face. "Seriously?"

"Duh doy," he snorts. "Lemme confirm with another party. Just a sec." In the background, she hears him tell someone, "It's Annie. _Yes_ , you were correct, fine. She wants to know—yeah, right? It's super obvious. Thank you."

The line _beeps_ and Britta calls out, "Hey, dummy: Kaitlyn's into you. Speaking as her fellow bisexual, for whatever that's worth, she's pretty much waiting for you to kiss her. You should go do that."

"How'd you get here? Did Jeff link you in on the call?"

Jeff replies, "No, we're hanging out at my place, I just put you on speaker phone. And, like I said, I figured you needed another testimony since you're somehow rejecting the evidence of your eyes, as well as my sterling input, and I'm definitely right about this." Britta must make some snarky remark in the background, because Jeff snipes, "Please, you're going to make that claim right now? Really, Britts?"

Something in Annie's brain clicks as she registers the nickname. "Britta, what are you doing over there?"

Shameful silence, followed by her one word answer. "Jeff."

"Our activities are neither prudent nor relevant to the discussion at hand," Jeff cuts in quickly. "As we were saying, go forth with confidence and kiss your woman on your next date. You really don't have anything to worry about in terms of whether or not she wants you. She does. I mean, she hung out at Casa Trobedison. That says a lot."

"Kaitlyn's been super taken with you ever since the night you met. And, to be frank, she's _stupid_ hot, and she gives off the vibe of someone who'd be a good kisser. If she ends up being the first woman you kiss, you've kinda hit the jackpot, Annie," Britta adds.

"Thank you," Annie manages to stammer out—between Jeff and Britta's back-and-forth, she's received rather more information than she'd bargained for when she'd dialed his number. "So, um, in terms of actual advice for initiating the kiss...what have you two got?"

"This might sound counterintuitive, but turn your brain off," Britta answers, and Jeff echoes her sentiments. "Just let it happen. When you're in the right moment, you'll know."

" _Easier said than done to rest my mind, but I'll try,"_ Annie wryly comments to herself, then repeats again, "Thank you, both of you. I really appreciate your responses."

"What were we gonna do, let you be a useless gay who's unable to kiss her object of affection?" Britta snorts, and Jeff interjects, "Why do you yell at me when _I_ say that?"

"When you call people useless gays? Because you're straight, or at least claim to be—"

"But that doesn't change the fact that—wait, whadda you mean, _claim to be_ —"

Annie sighs, shakes her head fondly at the two idiots, and calls over their flirty fighting, "I'll see you guys later this week. Bye!"

She's struggling to come up with a suitable idea for their next date until Greendale itself provides an answer, in a roundabout way. Or, more specifically, the neverending to-do list of Greendale improvement and beautification projects does.

Annie hastily scribbles down a plan for how to pull her little scheme off, then figures, _"I should probably make sure Kaitlyn will actually want to go along with this idea first."_ She texts her, _Hey. This might sound kinda random, but are you an enthusiastic swimmer?_

Kaitlyn replies about twenty minutes later. _Sure, I like it fine. Haven't actually swam anywhere since last summer. Why?_

_I think you should bring a swimsuit and a towel to our meeting this Friday._

She grins at Kaitlyn's next response. _Will do. Consider my interest piqued._

"Time to get this plan into motion," Annie mutters as she starts composing an email to Greendale's athletic director.

**

Annie's found that there's a massive, massive upside to earning a reputation as a tireless worker-bee, as a do-everything fixer.

Namely, that people are a lot more open to her suggestions, to assuming that everything she's doing is for the good of the school.

And if that's a result of her reputation preceding her and the fact that she's developed a certain level of nuance in her diction thanks to being friends with a slick-talking former lawyer for the past five-plus years, well, that's not entirely her fault, is it?

Which is how she ends up sporting a massive smirk when Kaitlyn asks, "Where's this swimming date happening?" as they leave the study room after another largely successful brainstorming and research session. Between her, Annie's, and Frankie's combined organizational abilities, along with a surprising level of buy-in from everyone else, they've gotten close to streamlining Greendale's new grant development process.

"We're going this way." With the others all out of sight as they walk to the parking lot, Annie links an arm through Kaitlyn's and steers her toward the gym and aquatic center.

"Isn't the gym closed now?"

"It is." She swings her backpack around on one shoulder, unzips the front pouch, extracts a set of keys, and swings them around on her finger. "Except I got the AD to give me a copy of the keys because I may have implied we'd need to conduct our own review of the athletic premises and I didn't want to bother him with scheduling. I didn't _actually_ say that, but it's something we could conceivably do," Annie shrugs as she unlocks the doors.

"So we're committing a semi-school-sanctioned B&E, then, are we?" Kaitlyn counters as she switches on the lights and they start flickering to life.

"Well, we would be, except for the fact that I wrote down on the unofficially official pool use sign-up sheet that we'd have it tonight, and I got Dean Pelton to sign off on it because he likes making subtle adjustments to his signature from time to time. So, technically, we're not doing anything wrong," Annie banters, flashing her doe eyes at Kaitlyn as a distraction as she adjusts the lights down; harsh fluorescence is _so_ incompatible with the vibe she wants for the night.

Kaitlyn's grin back at her is positively wicked. "Subverting rules and regulations and skirting the lines of legality all for a date with me? That's quite the act of planned spontaneity."

"I prefer to think of it as controlled chaos."

She loves her inside jokes, references, and callbacks with the boys, but crafting and sharing a language with Kaitlyn is something else entirely. Because with Troy and Abed, she'd been entering a conversation, a method of remembering and speaking that they'd already perfected, whereas with Kaitlyn, they're still developing the lexicon, refining it, expanding it on their own.

" _And I wanna share more jokes, more references—more everything—with her."_

So she's got a little bit of a decision to make, as she and Kaitlyn split off into separate parts of the women's locker room to change.

She can wear the maroon tankini that's been her go-to beach outfit for the past three years. Or she can throw on the navy blue bikini with pink polka dots that she bought at Target three days ago.

" _Fortune favors the bold,"_ Annie mentally whispers, and as she ties the bikini top on, as she checks herself out in the mirror, her inner werewolf roars in approval.

She's been forcing herself to work out more, to struggle through five or seven push-ups or reps of wall sits or squats in the wee hours of the morning a few times a week before she showers, so that's part of her increased confidence.

The other part of it's been developing a newfound appreciation for all that her body can do. For how she moves. For its physicality. For how she's becoming less afraid to let herself take up space.

She tugs her little cover-up beach dress on over her head, but it's not out of fear. If anything, she's being more daring, if in an unconventional sense.

"You cold, too?" Kaitlyn asks a minute later as she emerges from the locker room, wearing a button down shirt-dress that barely comes to her thighs, and Annie manages to nod when all she can think about is wanting to see what's underneath.

"The pool's pretty toasty, though. One of the few things Greendale does right," Annie half-jokes. She kicks off her flip-flops as she approaches one of the diving blocks at the deep end, and she couldn't want a better metaphor if Abed was writing a TV episode for her.

Kaitlyn's still hanging back, though, so Annie turns to her and asks, "You joining me?"

She takes a second to respond, then nods and stammers, "Yeah. Um, in a sec. You—you can jump in first. Go ahead."

The tiny tremors, the little quavers in Kaitlyn's voice, give her away, and Annie's know-it-all grin is tugging at the corners of her mouth.

" _She's been watching me just as much as I've been watching her. And in that case...might as well put on a fucking show."_

Annie wills herself to not turn around immediately as she slowly works her dress up over her head, brushing the material and her fists against her breasts for good measure. The facility's stillness offers no cover for Kaitlyn's gasp, and the water only amplifies it. Annie answers with heaping gobs of faux innocence, like she's learned from Britta. "You really should get in the water if you're so chilly, Kaitlyn. You'll heat up right away."

"Mmhmm," she answers, clearly trying her damndest not to ogle her as she saunters over to one of the lounge chairs. She drops her dress there and murmurs, with a sensuality she didn't know she possessed, "Wouldn't want anything to get too wet in here."

"Mm-mm."

Annie swallows down a prideful cackle as she makes her way back over to the diving block and launches herself into the water with a small _splash,_ loving how its warmth envelops her body.

She wonders, for a handful of strokes, if she went too far without going all in, but then Kaitlyn's voice rings out. "Hey, Annie?"

She's definitely not imagining the challenging edge to her tone, and she treads water for a beat before she replies, "Yeah?"

"Wanna grade my cannonball? If you don't mind watching, that is."

Kaitlyn's voice drips with sass, with a taunt that sings, _"Anything you can do, I can do better,"_ so Annie pivots to look at her.

It's a glorious mistake, but she'd happily commit it ten times out of ten, even though a pool is kind of the worst place to lose her breath. Because Kaitlyn's decked out in a classic black bikini that practically looks painted on, and if this vision drowns Annie, at least she got to see _everything_ before she went.

"You ready for me?" Kaitlyn adds, without waiting for a response—she knows Annie will say yes, they both know it—and she leaps after Annie counts her down from three, two, one.

Kaitlyn glides through the water easily. "How was that?"

"Well, _someone_ forgot to give me a grading scale, but I'd say it was incredible. Breathtaking, even."

"And you're only talking about the cannonball?"

Annie's heart rate accelerates as it hits her—this is the moment—and she wills her brain to shut up, even as she catches Kaitlyn's hands and drifts backward, since she'd rather not have to tread water if this turns out the way she wants.

"No, I'm not." She gets her feet under her. "I'm pretty much done with talking for right now, actually, if you're cool with that," she murmurs as Kaitlyn half-swims, half-walks toward her.

"Yeah. I am," Kaitlyn nods, smirking like she knows exactly what's coming next, like she's ready for it, and maybe Jeff and Britta are right when it comes to the whole "put your brain in sleep mode" idea. Because Annie's body works perfectly on its own, with her hands pulling Kaitlyn close and her fingers moving a few stray hairs out of her face just before she angles her head to the side a touch, flutters her eyes shut, and kisses her full on the mouth.

Something inside her settles into place and shatters at the same time. And she can't help her response, not when they each pull back and Kaitlyn's eyeing her lips with gorgeous yearning, with tender hunger, before she looks back up into her eyes and offers a slow nod and a gentle, affirming, sterling smile that says, _"This is where we're meant to be. This is where I want to be."_

"I...I want…" Annie's voice emerges as a shaky rasp, because she's never articulated this basest part of her identity before. She lunges at Kaitlyn because she's spent years longing, wanting, in her head, the lone space where she only occasionally felt safe enough to contemplate (silently, always silently) the heady scent of Amber Crowell's Pure Cali perfume wafting by as she left the locker room after cheerleading, or the sight of Britta tugging her leather jacket off on hot days.

 _"You deserve this transition,"_ Annie tells herself. To crack the glass wall of wanting, to speak her desire out, to move to the having, to the taking. So she snatches at it with both hands, pulls it tight to her body, pulls Kaitlyn tight to her body, and commits to kissing her so fiercely that she can't even think to be scared of what she's unleashing inside herself.

Her favorite part of it all? Kaitlyn doesn't speak. Neither of them do. They don't have to, not when they're both on this plane, on this one wavelength. Kaitlyn's hands slide down her body to her waist and she picks her up, spins her round, and Annie doesn't try to hide her staring. She wants to say something but lets her eyes talk instead, gazing reverently at Kaitlyn's biceps and the curved muscles of her shoulders, sculpted through so many hours of rock climbing.

Kaitlyn backs up until she's against the side wall and Annie follows instinctively, intuitively, how she's always hunted after her, even before they truly knew each other, and the way Kaitlyn breathes out her name as they press flush up against each other doesn't just echo in the water. It'll play on a loop in her head over and over and over.

She's always thought of kissing as serious business, as an action that needs to be calculated, but, as with everything between the two of them, it's natural, easy, even playful. She pauses for the briefest instant after she presses a kiss to Kaitlyn's cheek, and then Kaitlyn whispers in her ear, with her nails clawing possessively into the back of her shoulder, "Keep going," and what's a girl supposed to do besides follow that wonderful command? So Annie trails kisses down to her jaw, to the side of her neck, doesn't worry about trying to hide her blushing at her date's delightful, breathless giggles.

Her mouth arrives at Kaitlyn's pulse point and her animal instincts, combined with Kaitlyn's encouragement, override her sense of decorum, her old wiring to be sweetly, cloyingly _ro-man-tic_. She licks the spot, sucks on it, and lets a tiny bit of her inner werewolf out with a gentle offering of a love bite.

Or maybe not so gentle. Self-control isn't always her forte.

 _"Fuck,"_ Kaitlyn gasps, the awed roughness of her voice nearly cracking the obscenity in half, and Annie would usually retreat into her own head, worry that she's gone too far, been too aggressive, but something inside her whispers, _"You're fine. You're good."_

She gets confirmation as Kaitlyn shoots her that predatorial look—the same one from rock climbing—and murmurs, "This might sound nuts, and maybe it's just because we're at Greendale, the home of all insanity, but...it feels like we've kissed before. Because in terms of what I like…" her laugh suggests a touch of madness and Annie glows at the idea that she's introduced that into her. "You know. Like, holy shit, do you _ever_ know, Annie."

"I think it's because we're sort of kindred spirits, you and me," Annie offers softly. "There's always been this magnetism, even before we really met. When you were talking to Jeff at the bar and I just couldn't stop glancing your way. And this might sound stupid, but the way you move…" she trails off as she glances down Kaitlyn's body because she can't resist looking and _damn._ She finds her voice again. "Do you remember when I asked if the physicality in rock climbing made you feel more alive?"

Kaitlyn grins. "Yes. Yes, I do. Since that was the line that really made me sit up and think, okay, I'm not letting this woman go back to her table any time soon."

"Again, this might sound dumb, but it's how I've been thinking of it—it's like I sensed this kind of animal inside you. In how present you are in everything, in your muscles, in your work, in—" she's blushing furiously and her face flushes an ever deeper pink when Kaitlyn cuts off her rambling with a soft kiss.

"You get it," Kaitlyn murmurs against her lips. "And the way you look at me—it's so much deeper than just checking me out. You see it. The sort of settled restlessness that's part of me. That's what you're getting at, I think?"

Annie nods and keeps talking because she can't stop now. "I usually try to keep that part of myself more buried, but you've helped me pull it out in this composed, controlled way."

"It's been an absolute pleasure. And speaking of those more animal tendencies…" she walks Annie backwards a little bit. "Lemme just…" she pushes off away from the wall and floats on her back. "C'mere. I haven't done this with anyone in ages, but someone's been kissing me stupid and confessing her affection—which is very, very much returned, by the way."

Annie walks back next to her and asks, "You haven't done what, babe?"

Kaitlyn gently grabs the inside of her right knee and slowly, slowly lifts it up out of the water, over her own legs, and Annie's brain goes, _Oh._

And suddenly she's basically sitting in Kaitlyn's lap in the water, cradled in her arms, and it's kind of the most intimate thing she's ever done with anyone. Until Kaitlyn presses a kiss to the hollow of her neck, then her collarbones, then her right shoulder. And by the time she traces her path back up to Annie's lips, Annie's starting to grind against her and _Oh._

She's always considered the term heaven on earth an oxymoron, but she's quite possibly discovered it here tonight, in the taste of chlorine on Kaitlyn's skin and the sound of moans that reverberate so loudly she should be embarrassed but she can't. quite. care.

"You like this? Is my girl feeling good?" Kaitlyn murmurs reverently, her kisses turning softer to slow down their frenzied fury.

"It's... _yes..._ you're…" she manages to gasp, scrabbling for purchase in her mind, because she's gone from having her first kiss with a woman to straddling and making out with said woman in about fifteen minutes. The right word flashes in her mind for a second and she captures it. "You're electrifying, Kaitlyn."

"And you're bewitching, Annie," she answers, her voice equally wrecked and wracked with pleasure, and God, being with a woman who sprinkles compliments like that into her day is _intoxicating._

"Thank you." She leans back and, with a dramatic fall to the side, deposits herself back fully in the water—while it's still pretty warm, it'll definitely help her cool off, and the sound of Kaitlyn's laughter ringing in her ears is totally worth it, anyway.

The two of them swim a couple of lazy laps so they're less tempted to jump each other, and Annie remembers what she'd wanted to say before her brain turned to mush as they towel off and then get changed. As they're leaving and she's locking up the gym, she pulls Kaitlyn close with her own towel and presses their foreheads together. "I forgot to say this earlier, but...congrats."

Kaitlyn smiles into their latest kiss. "For what?"

"You're the first woman I've ever kissed."

Her eyes bulge wide. "You're joking."

Annie shakes her head and smirks. "What can I say? I'm a fast learner."

Kaitlyn shakes her head in disbelief and mutters, "Jesus, no shit. I'm gonna consider that the best surprise gift pretty much ever, then." Annie laughs just before she adds, "And I kind of have a surprise gift for you, too. Or for us, I guess."

"Ooh, what is it?"

Kaitlyn takes a deep breath. "I've always sucked at this, but, um...do you wanna make this," she gestures between them, "official?" She gulps and clarifies her question with another one. "Do you wanna be my girlfriend, Annie?"

She freezes for an instant while her brain reboots and then she launches herself at Kaitlyn, alternating "yesses" and kisses before she comments to confirm, because she's still half-stunned, "You're my girlfriend, and we're dating, and this is real."

"Yes, and yes, and yes," Kaitlyn answers, mirroring Annie's own response, and their shared language just got a little bit sweeter.


End file.
